1The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
2since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
3the Turks said just take anything you please
4which neither time nor tide can long postpone
5And yet ’twas he the beggar Fate just flings
6when flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
9Poetic licence needs no strain or stress
10a bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13and let you off from your opinions glum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
← OPEN dataBase